was
really occupied in reviewing the features of Pender's extraordinary
story, and that it was no longer necessary to steady his imagination by
studying the dull paragraphs detailed in the pages before him. He laid
down his book accordingly, and allowed his thoughts to dwell upon the
features of the Case. Speculations as to the meaning, however, he
rigorously suppressed, knowing that such thoughts would act upon his
imagination like wind upon the glowing embers of a fire.

As the night wore on the silence grew deeper and deeper, and only at
rare intervals he heard the sound of wheels on the main road a hundred
yards away, where the horses went at a walking pace owing to the density
of the fog. The echo of pedestrian footsteps no longer reached him, the
clamour of occasional voices no longer came down the side street. The
night, muffled by fog, shrouded by veils of ultimate mystery, hung about
the haunted villa like a doom. Nothing in the house stirred. Stillness,
in a thick blanket, lay over the upper storeys. Only the mist in the
room grew more dense, he thought, and the damp cold more penetrating.
Certainly, from time to time, he shivered.

The collie, now deep in slumber, moved occasionally,--grunted, sighed,
or twitched his legs in dreams. Smoke lay on his knees, a pool of warm,
black fur, only the closest observation detecting the movement of his
sleek sides. It was difficult to distinguish exactly where his head and
body joined in that circle of glistening hair; only a black satin nose
and a tiny tip of pink tongue betrayed the secret.

Dr. Silence watched him, and felt comfortable. The collie's breathing
was soothing. The fire was well built, and would burn for another two
hours without attention. He was not conscious of the least nervousness.
He particularly wished to remain in his ordinary and normal state of
mind, and to force nothing. If sleep came naturally, he would let it
come--and even welcome it. The coldness of the room, when the fire died
down later, would be sure to wake him again; and it would then be time
enough to carry these sleeping barometers up to bed. From various
psychic premonitions he knew quite well that the night would not pass
without adventure; but he did not wish to force its arrival; and he
wished to remain normal, and let the animals remain normal, so that,
when it came, it would be unattended by excitement or by any straining
of the attention. Many experiments had made him wise. A